


An Unfixable Mistake

by touloser



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angry Kissing, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not A Happy Ending, Vulnerability, idiot boys, light cursing, my first fic so it’s prob trash but BE NICE, oopssss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-06 06:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18845071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touloser/pseuds/touloser
Summary: Simon comforts Baz, Baz is scared of being vulnerable. Drama ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mae1505](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mae1505/gifts).



> Love you, Mae. Happy Birthday!!! <3
> 
> Also, if you aren’t Mae and are still reading this for whatever reason, please leave constructive criticism because I know my writing sucks absolute ass. This is my first ever actually completed fic sdfsddcsd

“You aren’t my son.” Natasha Pitch looks Baz straight in the eye. The fire dances in her eyes reflecting all around, god there’s fire everywhere, Baz lets out a sob. She sneers. “Weak. So weak, my son wouldn’t be this weak.”

The fire climbs, and he can feel the heat itching at his skin, god, fuck. He can see the flames in the edge of his vision, framing Natasha’s hateful face. They taunt him, call to him. “Baz, Baz!”

Gently, she pulls his chin up, meets his eyes. “You are a monster.” 

“Baz! C’mon, wake up!”

He sits up quickly, eyes soaring open. His vision is blurred by tears, but he can still faintly see copper blonde and plain blue. His copper blonde and plain blue. Fuck. 

“Are you- are you alright?”

He presses the bases of his palms to his eyes and rubs. The tears wet his cheekbones, and his vision spots. He should probably stop rubbing so hard. He lifts his hands to his hair, and pulls as hard as he can. 

“Baz!” His voice sounds desperate now. 

He lowers his palms. Stares at his hands sitting in his lap. Wishes Simon would just leave, save a shred of his dignity. 

The wind whistles outside the window, but Baz’s heavy breaths fill the room with a quiet noise. At least he is no longer sobbing. 

“Hey, are you okay? I - I heard you crying and I just thought I should wake you up?” Simon is quiet, unsure. 

Baz lifts his head. Simon is sitting on the edge of his bed, worrying his bottom lip. He is so close, so close. Baz can see every single mole and freckle that dots his cheeks. He can see the furrow between his eyebrows. He wants to surge forward, catch that bottom lip in his mouth. 

And then Baz remembers it. A small gold object that hangs around Simon’s neck. 

He looks back at his hands, and his vision blurs. He lets out a sob, he is so fucking tired, so tired. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t worry, I uh - it’ll be alright?” His voice is helpless. Baz can feel Simon’s unsurety when he wraps a careful arm around his shoulders. He awkwardly pats Baz’s forearm. 

What does he have left to lose? 

Baz slumps into him. He buries his face in Simon’s chest, sobbing harder. Simon wraps his arms around him, shifting further onto the bed. 

“Shhhh. Shhhh, don’t cry.” His fingers card through Baz’s hair. The motion soothes his scalp. Still, Baz digs his face further into his torso, soaking Simon’s shirt even more. 

He will probably never get this close to Simon ever again. He will probably push him away tomorrow morning, push away his feelings. His crying intensifies, and so does Simon’s quiet shh-es and calming words. 

Then. Then, Simon pulls away for a moment, then gently pushes him down to the pillow. Baz turns on his side, away from Simon. His chest still heaves. Simon stands up, and then slides his legs under the sheets. He spoons Baz from behind, one arm sliding under and one over to secure their torsos together. 

Baz stills, holding himself stiff. 

He will probably never get this close to Simon ever again. 

Baz relaxes his body. He nuzzles his head further into the pillow, and he places his hands over Simon’s, where they lay on his chest. He slips a leg back, and puts it between Simon’s. 

And everything is perfect. 

Baz falls asleep right there, in Simon’s arms. 

~~~~

When Baz wakes up the next morning, the first thing he thinks is that something on his face itches. The second thing he thinks is that it’s unusually warm in his bed. 

And then he remembers. And it’s Simon’s freckled arms surrounding him. And it’s Simon’s breath hot on his neck. 

God. He really is fucking weak. 

He takes a deep breath, then takes several more. Then, he carefully and slowly unwraps himself from Simon. He climbs out of his bed, over Simon, and enters the bathroom. 

His reflection is a little horrifying. His eyes are red and a little swollen, and there are dark (well, darker than usual) semi-circles of navy-purple lining them. The lines of dry tears itch his face. He splashes many handfuls of cold water on it. When he determines that water might get rid of tears but doesn’t get rid of dark circles, he sighs and leaves the bathroom. 

As soon as he steps out of the bathroom, he sees that Simon is sitting up, awake. His first instinct is to immediately return to the bathroom and ignore all his problems. 

Instead, he breathes and takes a few confident steps forward until he’s facing Simon. Baz fixes him with a cool stare. And like that, the peaceful expression is gone from his face, and the worried little divot is back. 

“What’s wrong?” Simon questions innocently. 

“Get out of my bed,” Baz says with an even voice. 

Simon sputters, and the smell of his magic fills the room. “Excuse me?!”

“I said. Get. Out. Of. My. Bed.”

Simon’s thick scent expands. “Are you joking me right now? What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?” 

Baz does not respond. 

Simon scoffs, and then kicks his feet over the edge of the bed, standing up quickly. 

“Why are you so scared of being vulnerable? Does it not cross your mind that you might be hurting someone?” His voice cracks as he talks, and he looks dangerously close to tears. 

Baz says nothing, even as his heart takes the blow. 

Simon stares Baz straight in the eyes, searching. When he doesn’t find whatever he is looking for, something in his face breaks. 

The magic in the room falls, the sickly sweet scent fading. Simon purses his lips and wipes away a tear Baz didn’t see slip. The air is tense and thick as Simon dresses quicker than Baz has ever seen him dress. 

When Simon leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him, Baz has a feeling that he has made an unfixable mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on doing another chapter, but Clara convinced me to. Thank you to Clara (luckypennyy) and Rachel (lovelessinqueens) for being fabulous betas and whipping my ass into shape. Where would this fic be without them? And even though it isn't your birthday anymore, I HAVE MORE GIFTS TO GIVE, MAE.

Baz likes schedules. He likes plans. He likes plotting every second of his time, knowing that he’ll be doing, where and when. He likes knowing his boundaries. He likes putting people in boxes. 

Simon is the hero, and Baz the villain. They are enemies. 

What happened during the Incident said “fuck you” to his boxes. His lines are smudged, his boundaries blurred. And now they hang in limbo. 

He doesn’t know what the schedule is anymore. He doesn’t know what box their will relationship fit into anymore. And when he can feel himself cracking, falling apart, he makes a new schedule.

He makes himself scarce around their room, because it’s clear he isn’t wanted. He spends nearly all his time in the library studying and pushing down his guilt. 

Penny used to sit with Baz in the library and they would help each other out on homework. It was a beneficial agreement, since they were both good in different subjects. Now, she doesn’t sit at their usual table. She sits across the room and shoots him dirty glares. 

Simon doesn’t catch his eye anymore. Simon doesn’t initiate any fights anymore. Simon doesn’t complain about the closed window anymore.

This is the new schedule. He will never get close to Simon ever again.

And because Penny is Penny, she has absolutely no respect for Baz’s schedule. She approaches him at the library two days after the Incident.

Baz knows Penny is standing in front of him, but he doesn’t look up from his Elocution worksheet. 

“What the fuck have you done to Simon?”

This catches him so off guard that he looks up, and squints at her. Her face is set in an angry expression, and her arms are crossed over her chest. “What?”

“I said, what the fuck-”

“No, no, I heard you the first time,” Baz interrupts. “What do you mean?”

Penny’s eyes narrow. She pulls out a chair and sits down, leaning across the table towards him. “He’s quiet and sad lately, and he isn’t talking to you. I’m not an idiot, Basilton, I can read the signs. So what the fuck have you done?”

Baz didn’t know Simon had been acting that way. He bites his lip, and he can feel the regret bubbling up inside of him. God, he was such a dumbass. “It’s none of your goddamn business.”

Her jaw drops. “It absolutely is my business. You hurt my best friend. I don’t know what you did, and clearly you aren’t going to tell me, but whatever it is, you need to fix it. As soon as possible.” 

She storms away.

~~~~

Baz leaves the library earlier than usual. He knows that Simon will be be back in their room in a few minutes after his football practice. Baz sits on his bed, trying to formulate his words. He hasn’t yet succeeded when Simon arrives.

Simon’s brows furrow when he sees him, and Baz’s heart aches a little. Still, Simon closes the door behind him and settles his bag on his desk. He begins to unpack it, his back to him. Baz stands up. 

“Simon… I-” Baz says.

Simon cuts him off. “Don’t,” His hands stop moving, his shoulders sink the tiniest bit.

“What happened that night… I overstepped. And I know I shouldn’t have,” Baz steps closer to him. “I know I crossed your boundaries-” 

“You don’t know shit,” Simon laughs dryly, and turns on his heel to face Baz. “You always act like you know what’s best for everyone, but you don’t! You can’t play God. You don’t get to decide my feelings.”

“Then tell me how you really feel instead of fucking ignoring me!” Baz retorts, striding towards him.

“I don’t want to speak with you.”

“What do you want from me, Simon? I’m trying my best to fix this, but you aren’t helping much!” Baz steps even closer, backing Simon against the wall. Who then, in turn stares up at Baz, eyes flicking down to his lips. 

Baz is aching to kiss him, but that would be pushing the limit. He only takes what he can get, and kissing Simon, no matter how bad he wants it, is not an option.

And then.

Simon surges forward, pressing their lips together. 

Baz freezes, not knowing what to do. This is new and unexplored territory for him.

It’s only when Simon throws his arms around his neck and pulls him closer does Baz finally melt into the kiss. He wraps his arms around Simon’s waist and tilts his head, kissing him hungrily.

They stagger backwards and Baz hoists Simon on his desk, their lips still connected. Baz kisses him like he’s starving, and Simon doesn’t hold back. This is so much like their fighting and bickering, but better. 

Simon pulls away to take a breath and Baz remembers his box immediately, stepping away. 

Baz paces their room, trying to not look at Simon’s well-snogged lips and flushed cheeks. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”

“What?” Simon says.

“Crowley, I should not have done that!” 

“You’re such a wanker, Baz,” Simon says, getting up from the desk and facing Baz. “Playing with someone’s heart like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.

“I fell for you! I smothered my feelings for you, and that night, I thought, just maybe, you might like me too! You used me for one night and threw me away.” He explodes, and then takes a deep breath and says stonily, “I kissed you just now because I thought maybe this time would be different. But no. You’re so selfish.” 

His magic is in the air between them, the smell sweet and musty.

Baz stares at Simon in disbelief. His boxes are gone, vanished into thin air. He shakes his head slowly, and feels the need to cry building up in his throat. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Simon throws his hands up in the air, and says, “There you go again, Baz. You know what everyone feels, right?”

“I don’t know what you want, Simon, but it sure as hell isn’t me. I-I’m not Agatha, okay? I’m not easy to love.” His voice breaks and he covers his face with his hands. Turning, and takes a few steps away from Simon. “I’m not good for you.”

“Baz, look at me.” His voice is much softer than before, and closer than Baz had thought. His magic fades from the air.

“Simon, you can’t love me. Monsters can’t be loved.” His tears are streaming freely down his face now.

“Baz… please, turn around.” Simon places a careful hand on his back.

Baz wipes his tears with the back of his hand, and turns around. Simon stands before him. He doesn’t look angry anymore. He steps forward, so close, and cups a hand over Baz’s cheek.

“I’m damaged.” Baz whispers. 

“So am I.” Simon responds.” But we aren’t beyond repair.” 

“Simon, I… you don’t want someone like me, okay?” 

His brows furrow. “Baz, you are exactly what I want.”

This time when their lips press together, it feels so right. His regret leaves him. He is free.

And maybe, they aren’t beyond repair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this fic, please leave comments or kudos! <3


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